(I’m relating to Paramore songs ironically now…I think I’ve reached a new low)
I’m 2460done with this school and this town and this year. I’ve been trying to finish my senior project and still keep up with my community college classes. I’ve been trying to deal with the weird shifts in relationship dynamics. And I’m trying to prepare both mentally and physically for moving across the continent this summer.
I kinda broke up with my best friend (is that what it’s called? Break-up seems like the closest term…). It hurt (hurts) like hell. I don’t know about her, but I’ve seen this coming for a long time. I mean, we’re still “friends”, I guess, but it’s just different. We both said some really hurtful things. After all, only those who truly know you can get under your skin. I suppose reconciliation is possible, and might even be what she wants, but I’ve lost the ability to want to fight for it. Some friendships aren’t made to last forever, I guess.
The thing that bugs me the most is how “teen movie” it all is. Is that wrong of me? Maybe, but I can’t shake my hang-up with fulfilling tired cliches. I know they’re called cliches for a reason. Even so…it’s ridiculous!
One of the things my friend called me out on was my ego- that my world was the “ME” show, with everyone else relegated to secondary characters. She was right, in a way. I suppose this blog is a prime example of that. You see everything from my perspective. Every story I tell is filtered through the lens of my personal perspective. You don’t know anything about my friends or their stories that I don’t tell you. And by translating my experiences into a personal narrative, I do make it all about myself. On this blog, I’m the title character, and it’s weird to think about.
But really, isn’t the whole of the human experience simply a translation of events into personal narratives? It’s how we make sense of chaos and establish our place in the world. Whether storytelling around the fire or posting an anecdote on Twitter, we’re all just faceless voices shouting into the void, wanting to be heard, to matter.
And now I’m descending into the deep depths of over the top analysis of my own thoughts, so I’ll call it a night.